


No Charge

by HeartlessMemo



Series: The Worst Damsel [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Damsels in Distress, F/M, Rescue, Short One Shot, Wrestling with conscience, with the possibility of more to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-04-21 15:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22088350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartlessMemo/pseuds/HeartlessMemo
Summary: The Witcher does not involve himself in the petty affairs of humans. He hunts monsters and he gets paid. End of Story. A local lord hires Geralt to do a job but the so-called monster he's tasked with dispatching is nothing but an innocent woman. Will the Witcher walk away and leave her to her fate? Or will he step in and help? It'd be an even shorter fic if he walks away...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Worst Damsel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590148
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	No Charge

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking and I hope you enjoy. Like many others I am new to this fandom so if I've made mistakes I ask your forgiveness. This O/C is purposely pretty vague. I started out thinking that I would write a reader-insert but then ended up writing this instead. If I decide to write more with her then I'll definitely work out more details. Like a name for starters...

Geralt’s fists tightened at his sides as he got a look at the so-called monster imprisoned in the estate’s oubliette. A young woman in a torn dress sat shivering in the bottom of the well-like hole. She raised a dirty hand to block the piercing rays of light, blinded by the first light she’d seen in days as the hole’s cover was removed. 

His face was stony as he turned to the lordling at his side, “You told me your village was being terrorized by a striga. This–” he motioned toward the pitiful form at the bottom of the hole. “–is a human woman who has been monstrously mistreated. She’s no monster.”

The lord’s eyes shifted in panic but his voice was all false bravado, “Now see here, Witcher. I knew you wouldn’t come if I did not portray the gravity of our circumstances with…slight exaggeration. This she-devil is a demon on the inside, true as any monster you’ve slay’n. She was born on a black omen day and ever since has brought pestilence to our crops and plague to our people. She speaks evil words and is monstrously cruel to those who would give her kindness and safety!”

The Witcher grunted in displeasure, “I begin to see the way of it, little Lord. Did the bad lady hurt your feelings? Is that it? Well, I’ll have no part in this pettiness. There’s an authentic contract posted in Murivel not a day’s journey from here. I’ll be on my way. And I warn yeh not to make light of calling upon the services of a Witcher again.”

***

The starless night left the road obscured in darkness but Geralt had no trouble finding the path. Still, he tarried. Roach shook her head in irritation and stamped a hoof.

“Mmphh,” Geralt grunted in reply to the silent question. “I know, Roach. And yet…”

His mind flashed back to another road, years ago, and a young girl he saved from being attacked and raped by a band of despicable deserters. And what had been his reward then? For involving himself in human affairs and ignoring the Witcher’s code? Revulsion and fear. It wouldn’t do to get involved again.

And yet…

***

The heavy wooden door of the oubliette slid soundlessly open at a sign from the Witcher’s hands. He peeked over the rim and his black gaze, strengthened by the effects of a potion, picked out the huddled form in the darkness, though the girl surely could not see him.

“Quiet now, girl,” Geralt hissed into the still night air. “I’m getting you out of here, alright?”

A moment of stillness and silence. The Witcher feared she might be unconscious or worse. But a wavery voice finally responded, “A-alright.”

It was the work of a moment to climb down into the hole. It was constructed of earth and lined with large paving stones, an easy climb for one with a Witcher’s enhanced abilities. He dropped down onto the damp dirt floor of the hole and looked the girl over. She was still seated, huddled against a wall but as he stepped forward she rose. She was short and he could tell she’d once been plump and shapely although she’d clearly not been fed for several days. Dark shadows ringed her eyes and dirt and sweat obscured her hair color. It was altogether impossible for the Witcher to tell if she was comely or ugly. But given the quality of her dress, despite the dirt and tears, he could tell she came from a comfortable background. Perhaps a wealthy merchant’s daughter. He could guess how far her father’s protection and love extended based on her current predicament.

He cleared his throat and stepped into her space with one long stride. He turned his back to her and crouched down a bit. Patting his shoulder to indicate the idea. A moment passed.

“Go, on,” he said, annoyed, “Climb on, you want to get out of here don’t you?”

“It’s not…proper…” he could hear the indecision in her voice even as she spoke the words. What good had proper behavior been for her up to this point?  
The Witcher laughed, “I can certainly leave you here, miss, if you prefer to preserve your precious good name–although I hate to tell yeh, I think the ship has sailed there.”

The girl huffed a sigh but relented. Her arms went gingerly around his shoulders, clasping loosely at his collar. The Witcher grunted out another laugh and with one swift motion boosted her by the rump and forced her legs to wrap round his waist. He felt the press of her breasts against his back and nearly let out a pleased groan. It’d been ages since the last brothel. With a grimace he pushed the thought away and dug his hands into the grimy side of the hole beginning the climb upward.

***

He set the girl down on her feet with a gentleness that surprised her. She was a little more herself now that the urgency of escape was behind her. She stood before her rescuer and for the first time noticed him. He stood more than a head taller than she. His massive shoulders and muscular form were intimidating all by themselves–but the spell-blackened eyes that gazed down on her were truly a fright. Her face must have given her thoughts away for she saw the man grimace and turn away. With a sound of protest she reached out a hand and grasped his elbow.

“I thank you, sir.”

He turned back slightly and she watched as the inky blackness faded from his eyes to reveal molten gold irises. They were startlingly beautiful. Again, her thoughts must have shown on her face for she saw his mouth part in a razor sharp grin.

“You’re welcome, my lady. No charge.”


End file.
